


Walk Away From Love

by lyricalsoul



Series: Mycroft's In Love [12]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abuse of Power, Angst, I broke them a bit, M/M, Oh Mycroft, breaking up, ice man, lines are crossed here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/400734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricalsoul/pseuds/lyricalsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm gonna walk away from love, before love breaks my heart..."</p><p>The lines between work and romance are crossed, and Gregory gets a taste of ice. Of course, he does not react well. Things are said, actions are taken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walk Away From Love

**Author's Note:**

> And now a little angst... 
> 
> Don't fret, I'll fix them back. But the road to love is never smooth.

 

“Hello, Gregory. To what do I owe the pleas-”

“Did you give the order?”

“I’m sorry?”

“The order? Did you give it?”

“Ah. I assume you are referring to the Holcomb incident?”

“The Holcomb murders, you mean? Yeah, I am.”

“Yes, your people were ordered to stand down. Howard Evans cannot remain in custody, as he is on assignment. MI6, unfortunately.”

“He murdered a family. A whole goddamned family, Mycroft! It’s unfortunate that he happens to be an agent, but we can’t just let a murderer go free. If you don’t want your people arrested, maybe they shouldn’t commit crimes.”

“It is not that simple, Detective Inspector. If you keep him, the assignment is over, and a year of work will be lost. And we simply cannot have that. It is vital that he keep his cover."

“That is such a crock of shit. He murdered a school girl to keep his fucking cover.”

“I am aware of all of the aspects of the case, and am distressed at his actions. If it will make you feel better, he will be duly punished.”

“Make **_me_** feel better? This isn’t about me! I can’t go to that grieving family and tell them that the bastard that killed their loved ones will be fucking ‘duly punished’.He’s under arrest, and should stay that way until the courts decide otherwise.”

“Unfortunately, this case will not be decided by the courts. The mission must be completed to remove these particular terrorists from the world, Gregory.  The family will be contacted, and compensated as is seen fit. And, if you are worried about your record, it will not be affected, either.”

“I’m not worried about my record. A mother, father, grandmother and child were murdered because a man on a covert assignment lost his bloody mind, and you’re going to throw money at it. That’s so… I don’t even know what to say.”

“It’s how things work. Surely this isn’t the first time you’ve been asked to step aside…?”

“No, it isn’t, and I don’t appreciate you patronising me. You know this is wrong! The evidence-“

“Do not overstep your bounds, Detective Inspector. All information implicating him as the murderer has been purged. Now, someone will fetch him in thirty minutes. Please see that all this belongings are returned to him. Including the files taken from his home and his car.”

“No wonder people think I’m your lap dog.”

“Neither of us can control how people choose to view our working relationship. You are your own man.”

“Says the man who just ordered me to heel.”

“Despite the notion that I am a law unto myself, I do have those to whom I must answer. Having said that, I have my orders, Detective Inspector; you now have yours. Failure to comply will result in swift and severe consequences. Consequences, which, for personal reasons, I would hate to see visited upon you and your subordinates.”

“Threats, now? Fine. Your murdering MI6 bastard will be waiting on the kerb. Hopefully, the trash retrieval will get to him first.”

“I know that this was difficult, but I do appreciate that you can see beyond your anger and be reasonable, Gregory. I-“

“That’s Detective Inspector Lestrade, Mr. Holmes. You can bugger off.”

*click*

***

Hours later, I find Gregory in his flat, head resting on the sofa back, staring at the ceiling. A cup of coffee, long cold, sits on the table, and his packed duffle which was in my closet this morning is near his feet. I swallow to ease the tightness in my throat, and sit down on the opposite end of the sofa. “Your coffee’s gone cold.”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t move. “Come for one last slap?”

“Gregory,” I sigh. “I came to talk. To apologize.”

“No need. It was my fault for being so stupid. Won’t happen again.” He lifts his head from the sofa and scrubs at his face. “I think I got everything from your place.”

“So you’re leaving me?” The question is, of course, rhetorical, but I ask because one is supposed to. “We won’t always see eye to eye on things, but leaving is a bit drastic, even for you.”

“It’s not you; it’s me.”

“I would prefer that you not speak at all than to lie.”

“Oh, like you?”

I would really rather not do this, but I find that I cannot let him leave without some effort on my part to make him stay. Legwork, I think with a bitter shake of my head. “I really am sorry.”

“Damn it, Mycroft.” He turns to look at me, and I wish to heaven that he hadn’t.

His eyes are… haunted. He looks lost. Forlorn. Broken. “God, Gregory… I had no idea that you would be so affected.”

“Please. You knew exactly how I would react. How could you not? You spend your bloody day knowing how people will react.”

“Yes. However, you initiated the call to me. That you knew the answer to your question before you asked seems like an exercise in futility. In that respect, your reaction is opposite of what I assumed it would be, which reminds me that I should cease making assumptions because you are unpredictable. So, tell me then… what outcome had you hoped for?”

“It was stupid, and I acted in anger.” He huffs out a breath. “I just thought...” 

“You just thought what? Did you presume that I would recall our pleasant times together and call off the operation?” I swallow the bitterness that rises in my throat. “This is precisely why I am hesitant to indulge in matters of the heart. I cannot allow a personal relationship to prevent me from doing my job efficiently. You know that, Gregory.”

His head jerks as if I’d slapped him. “I do know that, but thanks for the reminder. So, as long as I’m docile and not asking questions, we’re good, right? Well, to hell with that. You can have it.”

“Then on the same token, as long as I’m not involved in anything that involves your office, all is well?” I shake my head at the utter madness of such a trivial matter wreaking this type of havoc on our relationship, but I am determined to at least try. “I know we had not spoken formally about how we would deal with work related issues, but it seemed that the mutual unspoken agreement was not to ask questions or favours. You pushed me as though I could change the order."

"You could have," he says angrily. "If you would have just-"

"No, Gregory," I cut in. "And you know that. I knew you would be professionally angry at being ordered to stand down, but calculated that you would need at least two days for your anger to dissipate. Perhaps you would sulk in your flat, and avoid me, but you leaving me is not something I anticipated. But, here we are, lines crossed, having a row. And you're leaving me because you feel disrespected.”

“Yeah, I know… I crossed the line. But instead of sidestepping me like you always do when our worlds collide, you crossed the line, too. And now you’re taking me to task like I’m some kid, which I do not appreciate.”

I look at him – body clenched, head hung… and I feel ashamed. “It is not my intention to bring up bad childhood memories, Gregory. I only want to fix this. And honestly, I don’t know how.”

He sighs, and shoves a hand through his hair. “Mycroft, you have all this power, and you relish having it. You love that you can do whatever the fuck you feel is necessary, and you don’t have to care about the actual people involved. You just… crushed me without a second thought. Like I was some stranger you met on the street.”

“You’re wrong. I do not relish it. It hurt me deeply to have to say such things to you, and to let that murderer go free because of my work. Unfortunately, I cannot do my job if I allow emotion to dictate my actions. Just as you go to a crime scene and detach yourself from the more disturbing elements, I detach myself. Why is it so different?”

He shrugs. “It isn’t, but I’m not callous like you are. Seeing that girl brutally murdered by one of the so-called good guys affected me, Mycroft. I’m your… whatever the hell you want to call me, and no, I shouldn’t have called you because it wasn't fair to you. It just hurts me to know that you can know what you know, do what you do, and just shrug it off like it’s nothing. It's scary. And it makes me wonder about you, and what you are really capable of feeling.” He shakes his head. “Sherlock was right. I am an idiot, falling for you.”

“You’re not an idiot, and you should most certainly not listen to Sherlock, of all people.” I hold back a sigh of exasperation. “What I relish is that you fell for me. And I am trying to find a way to return your feelings. It isn’t easy, though. It’s not my way.”

“I know… but it is stupid, loving someone who has to ‘find a way’ to return your feelings, and who can turn emotion on and off like a faucet.” He draws in a shaky breath. “I can’t do this, Mycroft. I tried… so hard, but it’s… I can’t separate work and us. Not like you can. I’m sorry.”

“We should talk more when our tempers aren’t so high. Perhaps later?”

“I’ve said all I had to say. It was stupid to think we could make this work anyway, right?” He smiles, and it’s a sad, brittle smile – the same one he wore when he told me about his separation being official and legal. “Don’t worry… I’ll still make sure Sherlock doesn’t die of boredom, but I don’t want to hear from you. And I’d appreciate it if you would keep your damned cameras off me.”

“I-yes, of course.” I stand, and head for the door. I will not stay where I am not wanted. “I’ll not bother you again, Detective Inspector.”

“Great.” He stands, grabs the duffle, and heads toward his bedroom. “Lock the door when you leave.”

The urge to follow him, to beg him to talk it over, to stay, to… do anything to keep him from walking out of my life threatens to overwhelm me. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and push away the tide of emotion. Caring is definitely not an advantage, and I am a fool for thinking I could be anything other than the icy man I’ve trained myself to be. I let myself out and head to my waiting car.

 

tbc...


End file.
